


Three In the Morning

by ChaosPrincessKit



Series: Decoy [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depressed Stiles, Gen, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, POV Lydia, worried lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosPrincessKit/pseuds/ChaosPrincessKit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Decoy. The phone conversation between Lydia and Stiles that led to the Decoy drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three In the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I had to re-write this because I was nearly done with it when my computer shut down and it was lost. So yeah...it's probably not as good as it could have been.

Lydia Martin's conscious mind swam towards awarness as the very distinct sound of her ringtone came from her dresser. Her brain was hazy with sleep, dreamland still pulling her head back towards her pillow. First she had to shut her phone up though. It was a number she didn't recognize and once she realized that it said three o' seven in the morning, she turned her ringer off and dumped the phone back on to her stand in disgust. Who even calls someone at three in the morning anyway? She fell back to sleep immediately.

-

The next night, she was once again dragged awake by the sound of her phone. She grabbed blindly at it in the dark and then looked at the bright screen display that flashed the same, unknown number and the time: Three fifteen. Curiosity got the better of her and she answered the phone. "Hello?" she asked coldly. 

"Lydia!" It was Stiles. His bright, bubbly voice not even showing a hint of sleep or remorse for waking her. 

"What the hell, Stiles!" She snapped. "What is your problem, it's three in the morning!" 

"It is?" He seemed surprised. 

"Yeah. It is." And with that, she hung up the phone and dropped back on her pillows.  _Weirdo_ , she muttered in her head as she settled in to fall back to sleep. 

The nexy day, she nearly forgotten the phone call, chalking it up to some weird dream. Stiles never made a move to speak with her and she spent all of her time distracted by Allison and sometimes Aiden. Still, she'd gotten the nagging feeling like she was forgetting something.

-

That night she'd been jerked awake sudden from a very good dream starring her, Aidan and the geometry classroom. Her eyes immediatly darted to her trilling phone and she balled up her fists and slammed them down on her bed. "Damnit!" she complained before reaching over and snatching up her phone, answering with a growl, "What?"

"Hey, Lydia!" It was Stiles again. His bright, happy voice sounding just a tad strained. She ignored it.

"Again, it's three in the morning," it was actually three twenty, "Good. Night," she hissed and ended the call, throwing it back down onto her night stand. She threw herself down onto her pillows and stifled a huff of irritation, forcing herself to try and fall back to sleep. Her dream was well and truly ruined and definitely not coming back.

The next morning, she completely ignored Stiles' existance, but then...he did the same thing to her and that just wasn't very satisfying at all. 

-

When she got woken up that night, she felt like she had been expecting it. She was more alert then she was the past three nights. Still, she wasn't happy about it and couldn't help but huff as she answered the phone. "Stiles," she greeted neutrally. 

"Lydia!" he sounded surprised that she'd answered. 

"It's three in the morning, Stiles," she sighed. 

"Yeah. Sorry," he replied heavily. 

"Good night."

She ended the call and held on to her phone for a moment with a frown. Her mind was plagued with a questioned she'd never bothered to ask herself before now.  _Why_ was Stiles calling her at three in the morning every night? 

When she got to school the next day, she watched Stiles.  _Really_ watched him. He looked tired, worn out and just generally defeated. His bright, boisterous voice was one gigantic cover up, she could from across the hallway that there was no feeling in it. It wasn't  _Stiles_. She was surprised, really, that Scott seemed to notice nothing, smiling along with whatever his friend was saying. When Lydia finally locked eyes with him, she knew there was no way that everything was okay with Stiles. His eyes were dull and sad and she recognized that look. She'd seen it enough times on her own face after the whole debacle with Peter. Something was  _wrong_. 

-

She stayed up that night and waited for the phone call. It came at three thirty one, just when she was about to give up and go to bed. "Hey, Stiles," she greeted as she answered the phone.

"Lydia!" it was the same bright, bouncy voice but now she could hear all of the underlying strain. He sounded exhausted. 

"What's up, Stiles?" she questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her after countless hours of pretending like she wasn't waiting for her phone to go off. 

"Nothing much," he responded casually. "I just..." he trailed off, "I guess I just wanted to talk."

"Okay," she nodded, though he couldn't see her. "About what?" 

He was silent for a minute. Well...nearly a full minute. She wasn't sure whether he was expecting her to hang up on him or whether he had called just so she  _could_ hang up on him. Maybe he didn't have anything planned to say after all. "I think the Lacrosse team has a pretty good chance this year," he finally said. "What with half the team being a werewolf, I mean it hardly seems fair. Not unless Pacific High is hiding their very own pack. It'd be the honorable thing if the wolves didn't play at all, but we all know that's not going to happen. Coach Finnstock may actually have a heart attack if all of his best players suddenly quit.  Though I guess, he's got one less since Boyd..." he trailed off again. "You know, sometimes I wonder why this world chose us."

"Chose us?" she asked curiously, "didn't we choose it?" 

"Not really, when you think about it. Us choosing it means we have a choice, we didn't really have a choice when we all of this played out. You know? You with Jackson and Scott being my best friend. It chose us just as much as it chose them," he pointed out.

"It didn't choose Jackson, Jackson chose it," she reminded him, feeling a dull pain in her heart at the mention of her ex. She wasn't sure whether that would ever go away or not. 

"Yeah. That's right," he agreed, as though he'd just remembered.

So he'd called to talk Lacrosse and Werewolves? Lydia highly doubted that; it was classic deflection away from the real issue. "So how come you're calling at three in the morning?" she asked casually. 

"Hmm?" he seemed distracted. "I didn't realize it was so late. Couldn't sleep, I guess. Sorry." He sounded off. Just not... _Stiles._ It wasn't a voice she associated with him and she'd known him since the third grade. She knew  _Stiles_ whether she wanted to most days or not. "Good night, Lydia."

"Stiles," she stopped him from hanging up for a moment. "I  _will_ see you at school tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah, sure, of course," he sounded confused, like she was the weird one for asking that question. "You'll know it's me becaue I'll be the one in flannel," she could practically hear the small grin in his voice. At least there was still that. 

"See you tomorrow then," she replied quietly, "night, Stiles." 

The next day, there were bags under Stiles' eyes, like he hadn't slept in days. He kept his smile throughout the entire day never letting on once to Scott or anyone that he wasn't okay. But Lydia knew. She could just tell. It was really starting to worry her. 

-

She had dozed off reading a book that night but jumped straight to fully alert as soon as her phone started going off at three o'six. She scrambled to get the phone in her hands and on, jamming the phone against her ear in her haste. "Hey, Stiles," she greeted easily. 

"Hey, Lydia," he replied, his voice muted and strained.

"What's up?" she questioned, same as before. 

"Same old," he chuckled weakly. The sound was almost painful for Lydia to hear and her chest constricted with fear.

"Stiles is everything okay?" she asked hesitantly. He was silent on the other end and she wasn't sure how to continue on. "If you need to talk about anything, you know I'll listen," she tried. He remained silent, like he was frozen. She could practically feel him gripping the phone. "I know you're not okay," she whispered, "please talk to me."

She listened to him stifle a sob on the other end of the line and felt like her heart was going to break. 

"I wouldn't even know where to start," he mumbled, sounding as though he probably had his face pressed against his knees. She could even picture him doing it. He probably was, she'd known Stiles for a long enough time to know that. 

"Wherever you want, I guess," Lydia responded with a brightness she didn't really feel at  the moment. 

"I fucked Derek tonight." 

That wasn't where she was expecting him to start. 

"Well...actually, he fucked me," he amended before continuing. "It's been going on for awhile." 

"These past couple of days?" she guessed. 

"Nah, longer," he replied, his voice tired. 

She frowned. She didn't understand at all. What was he trying to tell her? "Stiles...I don't understand," she told him quietly. 

He sighed heavily, "Nevermind, just forget I brought it up. It's stupid." 

"No!" she cried out, sitting up straight. "I want to understand, Stiles, I want to know what's wrong. Talk to me." 

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, but she waited patiently. She was rewarded. "It started about a month ago, I guess. When all the really heavy shit was going down. We'd just found out who the Darach was, My dad had been kidnapped. Everyone was really on edge. It started out as an argument, I think. But then we were kissing and I  _liked_ it. It was like I never wanted him to stop. We did it right here in my bedroom, didn't even bother to close the window. Not that he had to come through the window, really. Not like my dad was here, we still hadn't found him."

Lydia swallowed heavily, feeling like a ball of ice was resting in her stomach. She really didn't like where this was heading. "Are you okay?" she asked. 

"I was, I guess. It was great. Best sex ever, I'm assuming, considering I've never had it before. Here I thought I wasn't attractive to guys," he joked weakly. "It was exactly what I wanted at the time, what I needed. A distraction, I guess, because everything was pressing down and it was just like...constant panic attack. Derek helped."

"But not anymore," Lydia guessed. 

"No," Stiles agreed. "I dunno. I guess I just don't like the way it makes me feel anymore." 

"So tell him to stop," she demanding, feeling indignation spread through her veins. "If he doesn't, kick him in the balls."

"I don't want him to stop," Stiles whispered on the other end, sounding near tears once more. 

Lydia was floored. She didn't know where to go from there. She floundered for a moment. "I don't understand," she finally sighed, "what  _do_ you want?" 

"I don't know," he sighed. "I always want it while it's happening. But afterward...All I feel is guilty and used. He just gets up and leaves and I'm just lying there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how this came to be my life. You know? Then I feel dirty. So I shower. I scrub until my skin is raw and then I stay up all night and wonder what it is about me that seem to make people think I'm not worth a damn." 

"That's not true, Stiles," Lydia responded sadly. "You're worth more than a lot of people." 

Stiles scoffed, "I'd been in love with you since the third grade. You didn't know I existed until Scott became a werewolf," he pointed out. 

"Well I know you now, don't I?" she snapped. "I might not have BFF's with you all my life, but I do know more about you than most people," she said, "I mean, come on, you've been stalking me since third grade, how could I not know you?" She joked. 

He laughed softly and she felt a smile spread across her face. At least he could still laugh. "I guess I just thought it'd be different than this," he sighed finally. 

"With Derek?" she frowned. 

"With everything. I never expected Derek. I expected my first time to be about love and passion and all that cheesy romance stuff. It definitely wasn't like that though. There was passion, plenty of it, but there wasn't really much of anything else. Just a means to an end, really." His voice was heavy with just how tired he really was. "I just need to sleep, I think. I haven't slept in what feels like days," he murmured practically to himself. "Night, Lydia, thanks for listening." 

"Night, Stiles," her voice was hoarse as she held back tears. 

She never pushed him for answers again when he called her at three in the morning, but she was sure going to take it up with Derek the next time saw that stupid son of a bitch. 


End file.
